


The last moment

by dracospungen



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Episode: s03e02 The Sign of Three, F/M, John is a Bit Not Good, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, POV Sherlock Holmes, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 15:02:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9767318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracospungen/pseuds/dracospungen
Summary: Sherlock knows that this day is John Watson's day, it's John's... and Mary's. He should be happy for them, so why isn't he? Why is it, that he holds out his hand and hopes for someone to grab it, someone called John?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This is the first time I'm posting a fic and I'm actually really nervous. I wrote this one sometime after the episode aired in 2014. Hope you like it!  
> Comments, kudos, subscriptions are so very much appreciated, thank you for taking your time to read this!!

Sherlock gave John a brief smile, it didn’t matter that weddings were unnecessary, wasted and egoistic. This was his day, John’s day and Sherlock didn’t want to destroy it. Although he partly wanted to leave already, John was Mary’s now, and he was hers. Why did that matter to him? Why did it bother him? It shouldn’t bother him. It didn’t bother him. Of course it didn’t. _“Caring is not an advantage”_ , his brother’s voice echoed in his mind. Sherlock lowered his gaze, still with a smile on his face.  
“Would you dance with me?”, he couldn’t help himself.  
Sherlock bit his lower lip, somewhat feeling a bit worried. John looked perplexed. He was just about to turn around to face his wife, starting off with those steps and turns that Sherlock had taught him.  
“Um, Sherlock, I think this moment is for me and -"  
“It’s okay John, don’t steal him for too long though”, Mary winked at Sherlock.  
He swallowed. Feeling a bit too awful, a bit too nervous about this. Why was he nervous? Why was his heart beating faster than usual? He shouldn’t be, it shouldn’t be. He had practiced with John several times in their flat. Danced alone, just the two of them with the curtains drawn. But it hadn’t been anything, it shouldn’t have been anything else than that? Just the two of them, two pals dancing, practicing for this very moment. John and Mary’s moment. Not Sherlock’s. Still, he couldn’t help himself but smile foolishly as he held out his hand towards John.At home they had practiced the exact opposite positions, Sherlock taking Mary’s place, but this time, this time he was the one to hold out his empty hand, and John put his in Sherlock’s, clearing his throat obviously thinking about why he was about to dance with Sherlock and not with his wife. It almost made Sherlock wanting to pull back, regretting his suggestion. The stereo switching to a slow, steady one. Sherlock exhaled, took his free hand and placed it on John’s waist as John placed his on Sherlock’s shoulder. And they were off. They took prudent steps on the floor, only 1/3 second from synchronised. Sherlock smiled again, John was doing undeniably good. When they first had started, John didn’t know half the things he knew by now, not where to put his hands or how many steps he should move his feet to each beat. “Don’t ruin this” John muffled into Sherlocks ear. Sherlock didn’t answer. It was only a statement, and mostly unnecessary to give an answer to, which only, most definitely would make John uncomfortable or possibly , even furious. They danced in silence for a minute, somehow they had moved closer to each other. How? Sherlock hadn’t even noticed when this had happened. They weren’t holding each other the way he’d taught them to anymore. They were close, almost like a gracious attempt of imitating a hug, Sherlock’s arm all around John’s waist now, John on his toes trying to keep their position right, not letting go. Sherlock wanted to say so much, so so very much. He wanted to tell John about how much he appreciated him, how much he had loved every single second of their lives spent together. Their blood pumping through their veins as they chased some criminal mastermind down the streets. Just them, just the two of them against the rest of the world. He wanted to tell him how he really did notice when John had gone out, when he wasn't in the flat, he noticed every single time, how he only pretended not to acknowledge it so he could keep talking to him, John, keep him, even at times it was impossible for him to do so, and how he only pretended he never noticed because he didn’t want it to seem like he cared. When in fact, he cared, cared a lot. It was almost painful now, John obviously pressing his lips together not to mention their awkward position. Sherlock’s arm was pressing John against his own chest now, only being able to take tiny steps as their bodies moved together as one solid figure in a very slow rhythm. But Sherlock could feel John’s arm against his neck. He wanted this too, Sherlock realised, John wanted to be close this one last time. They didn’t utter a single word to each other, but Sherlock knew that they both knew. Sherlock suddenly felt the warmth of Johns heavy breathing against his chest, a wet single bit of water, could it be… a tear? He looked down at John. Sherlock hadn’t felt like meeting his eyes before but now, he couldn’t not try. John didn’t look back at him though, of course, how could he, with his head buried into Sherlocks chest. Of course he couldn’t - Sherlock felt a sudden sting of panic. That’s why he couldn’t possibly be able to meet John’s gaze. They were so close, so so close, almost too close. But a relief appeared when he realised there were too much people for anyone to notice. Notice them holding onto each other as if one of them was a cliff and the other was going to fall if he’d let go.  
“It’s okay John, marriage changes people” Sherlock swallowed at that, Mrs Hudson had said it several times, but never had he ever allowed himself to let it in, to breath it.  
A small unsteady and incomprehensible sound came from John when he said it, he cried, Sherlock just realised. He had made John Watson cry, on this day, on his very own wedding day.  
“Don’t cry John, your life’s just started, in fact, it started several weeks ago when this child of yours started to grow inside-”  
“Shuddup” Sherlock hold it in, swallowed the rest of the sentence.  
He didn’t want to ruin it. He shouldn’t even have taken John’s hand in his in the first place. That was his first mistake. John should be dancing with Mary. That’s what they had practiced for.  
“You should dance with-”   
“Shuddup Sherlock”  
He looked up at him, wet eyes, cleared his throat seemingly to check if his voice would break before he took off.  
“Why are you doing this?” Sherlock didn’t know what to reply, he watched John’s face and saw the way his eyebrows and his mouth and everything, every little clue screamed that he wanted to say more, to finish the sentence he had started.  
“Why are we holding onto each other, like this?” John hadn’t met Sherlock’s eyes even once since they had been caught up in this awkward but still somehow pleasing position. He didn’t let go though.  
“John, I think you know the reason to that very well”  
“I like to hear it from you”  
“John…”  
“Go on deduction genius”  
“Um, your heart, is pounding faster… you sure you want to?”  
“Sherlock”  
“Your pupils are dilated…” John swallowed at that, inhaled, Sherlock could see that John already knew the rest, that he had known for quite some time actually, but he tried nevertheless his best to look perplexed, had denied it for so long, just as Sherlock had.  
They had been close, several times things had happened, turned out in specific ways and they had been so close to say something, do something, to act upon what almost felt like reflexes you try to push away but keep pushing every single time, but they had never gotten themselves to do it. They never had, and they never would.  
“Why are you, Sherlock Holmes, ruining my wedding day when I told you not to? Just this one day? Couldn’t you have spared me this one day?” John laughed nervously.  
Sherlock felt the urge to kiss him, kiss his lips, his neck, his everything, his very being. But he couldn’t, he was Mary’s now. He bent down so that their foreheads touched. Creating a small distance between them, a small distance between their mouths so he wouldn’t do something he would later regret, wouldn’t be so foolish to do it, still it felt so tempting. But he hold still (it didn’t help a bit). John felt it too, his head slightly tilted backwards, pupils so big John’s eyes almost seemed swallowed by a blackhole.  
“I can’t, you know that, we both know this isn’t what you really want” Sherlock’s voice cracked in a whisper and he felt insecure, he never had had this sort of conversation with anyone, anyone who truly mattered, anyone he truly wanted, wanted so badly his body seemed to ache.  
“Sherlock, Jesus” Sherlock shut his eyes, couldn’t face John’s pleading eyes. He knew he wanted it too, somewhere he knew they had both wanted each other for so long. They didn’t stop dancing though, in fear of someone noticing them and their conversations.  
“I’ve… I’ve always loved you” John whispered, his mouth slightly touching Sherlock’s ear which almost made him jump by the sensation.  
“I know”  
“I’m sorry”  
“Don’t be”  
They hugged tightly, just hugging, desperate not to let go.  
“But this is your life now John” Sherlock finally started to let go.  
“Sherlock, please, once”  
Sherlock just smiled back at him, not exactly sure of what John asked of him, but he knew he couldn’t, they both knew that, but John’s pleading teared him apart, he felt broken.  
“This last time, you know it’s the last time”  
“You’re already a married man John, don’t cheat on your first night, you’re not that sort of man, I know that”  
“Oh you know do you?” John laughed, sounding almost strangled with emotion.  
“Now, go and dance with your wife”  
“I want you”  
“No, you don’t, we’re friends John, and I’m so so very happy to be your friend”  
“I know, but it’s more, we both know that”  
“No, like you said, we’re not a couple”  
He only felt John’s right hand in his as the playlist moved on to a faster, joyful song  
“Congratulations to the newly wed!”  
Sherlock forced himself to smile, trying to be happy for John once again, trying not to think of what John just said. Mary was standing beside them now.  
“My turn” she smiled and chuckled “come here husband”  
And one last feeling of John’s fingers in his hand, their hands still wanting to hold on, never to give up, gave up. John pressed his lips together again, this time in a tight smile towards his wife and Sherlock knew that this had been their last moment. Their only moment. And he looked down at his feet, turned around, and started his lonely walk out of the party, being the one to leave first. Sherlock loved dancing, but he wasn’t that eager to do it anymore, and when he thought about it he had already gotten his last dance, his very last dance.


End file.
